Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 142

**TITLE: The Third Signature by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 142: She’s Terrifying**

“Five hundred thousand people… One willow can’t handle that,” Sylvara murmured under her breath, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavily on her shoulders. The enormity of the task ahead loomed over her like a storm cloud, dark and ominous.

Finished.

A sly smile crept across Leiya’s face, an odd sense of satisfaction washing over him. “It might not be enough for all 500,000 people, but it’s still better than having nothing,” he replied, his voice tinged with a flicker of hope.

“Before we had this, we were completely helpless. The agony from genetic breakdown could only be alleviated in the medical pods, and even that treatment felt like a form of torture. If someone’s mind began to unravel, even the most stable person could find themselves utterly destroyed. No mental fortitude, genes disintegrating… far too many of our comrades chose to end their own lives rather than face that despair,” Leiya continued, his tone growing somber as the memories surfaced.

As he spoke, Sylvara felt a pang of empathy for those lost souls. “Even with just one willow at our disposal, it has already saved a handful of individuals who were on the brink of taking that irreversible step,” he added, his voice softening with gratitude.

“We’re thankful for what we have. Other legions don’t even possess a single one,” Sylvara replied, her heart swelling with appreciation.

Sylvara was deeply moved, her emotions swirling within her like a tempest.

Agares, with all his authority, could have easily coerced her into compliance, forcing her to bend to his will. He could have locked her away, draining her powers to ensure the survival of his soldiers.

Yet, he never did. All he requested was for her to cultivate more healing plants, so that the entire Troya Empire could reap the benefits.

He never demanded preferential treatment for his own squad, nor did he insist that her healing plants should be reserved solely for them.

With a man who was so principled and just, it was no wonder every new recruit aspired to join his esteemed Hunting Legion.

“I understand. Your legion will have more,” Sylvara said, a smile illuminating her face. With a flick of her fingers, the willow in the water responded, surfacing gracefully. From its branches dangled ten large fish, glistening in the fading light. “Tonight, we feast on grilled fish. Leiya, prepare yourself; it’s time to clean these.”

Ten fish, each weighing around ten pounds, were tethered together and hoisted up by the willow’s branches.

Leiya stood there, his jaw slack, utterly astonished. All traces of bitterness vanished from his expression. The others around him shared his disbelief.

Who could have imagined she had such fishing prowess?

That willow had to be something extraordinary, almost alive in its own right.

Sylvara crouched down, brandishing a kitchen knife with a practiced ease. As the willow brought the wriggling fish onto the ground, she swiftly struck it with the dull edge of the blade, rendering it motionless in an instant.

With deft movements, she gripped the knife at the tail and scraped downward, sending half the scales flying off in one smooth stroke. After six quick scrapes, the fish lay gleaming and spotless before her.

Next, she expertly hooked the blade at the tail, avoiding a slice through the belly and instead splitting the back cleanly open. With a swift yank, she removed the entrails and meticulously scraped away the dark membrane inside.

Bane felt a shiver run down his spine and elbowed Leiya, whispering, “She’s terrifying.”

Leiya nodded, a shudder coursing through him. “Super terrifying.”

Just as Sylvara was about to dispatch the second fish, her optical computer chimed. She glanced down at it, her heart skipping a beat—it was a voice message from Agares.

Finished.

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